Game On: Tick Tock
by RowlingTribute91
Summary: Wiress might be known for discovering the secret behind the Third Quarter Quell arena. But she had more at stake than anyone realized. Sequel to "Game On" (it can be read separately, though).
1. Chapter 1

So much has happened since I won the Hunger Games. I'd expected things to go back to normal, but instead, my life went downhill.

When I returned home, I invited my parents to move into the Victor's Penthouse with me. They said no. Then, they disowned me! It was the heaviest blow since being reaped.

When I asked them why, Dad said, "You could have won the Games without killing. Look at Joules. She didn't hurt a soul and she made it far. I'd rather have seen you die than see you end the lives of four people."

Like he wouldn't have done the same thing.

"Why did you have to be so heartless?" Mom asked me through a veil of tears. "The kids you killed did nothing to you."

They'll never understand. How would _they_ like it if their fate was decided for them? That's how it felt when I went into the arena. I tried to explain myself, but you know how hard that is for me now. I miss mom and dad every day because of it. If that wasn't bad enough, almost nobody in District 3 takes me seriously anymore. They don't even care that my brain injury only affected my speech. I'm still as intelligent as I ever was. But every little laugh, snicker, every demeaning comment, just makes my self-esteem plummet farther down. And the tributes I've mentored didn't help. They poked fun at my incomplete sentences. So much for showing victors respect.

Thankfully, there's been a bright spot. Beetee. Even under the threat of my possible death, I fell hard for him. By the time I took off on my Victory Tour, we were inseparable. He'd come over nearly every day when living alone in my new apartment got depressing. Then, when I was twenty-two, he proposed to me. That's right. I became Mrs. Beetee Kurtz! We have a son now. Beck Cameron Kurtz.

Here we are now, twenty years since my victory. Beetee steps inside our apartment after a long day doing repair work around the city, with Beck by his side. Beck's got milky brown skin, my blue eyes, and Beetee's dark hair. At thirteen years old, he's already taller than both of us. When Beck's not at school, Beetee takes him on his house calls so that he can learn how to become a repair technician. I get up from my couch seat with a giant smile.

"Hey Wiress," Beetee asks, "Remember what today is?" He picks me up, spinning me around.

"'Course," I say, blushing. Beetee knows I remember, but he just wants to make me say it. "Our fifteen anniversary!" I stand on my tiptoes to kiss him.

"Fifteen years with my beautiful wife. I couldn't ask for anything better." He gestures to Beck, who's holding a bouquet of fifteen roses. "I got one for each year. How about fifteen more?"

"You bet," I tell him. We're both still smiling like crazy.

Beck hands me the bouquet. "These are for you, mom. Happy anniversary!"

"Thank you." I sniff the roses, one of my all-time favorite smells. Then I hand Beetee a small box with his anniversary present inside: a watch that has the emblem of District 3 engraved on it.

He kisses my forehead. "What a perfect watch. Did you put it together yourself?"

I nod.

"Thanks, darling." He immediately fits the watch onto his wrist, and it looks even better than I hoped it would.

Now I have some bigger news to give. I've been aching to say it since I found out yesterday. "Beetee? Beck? I went to…"

"The doctor." Beetee knows he's right, because we're that good at communicating. It's a big reason why I love him. He can always finish my sentences. "What did you visit the doctor for? Don't tell me you're sick."

"No."

"Good." It doesn't take long for him to figure it out. He covers his mouth in surprise. "Wiress… are you pregnant?"

"Yes," I say. A bittersweet tone flows from my voice.

Beetee's been struck by silence. I can tell we're both already thinking the same thing: Beck's already at reaping age. Having another kid will be the best thing we've experienced in years, but what if he or she is chosen for the Games one day? They don't count out the children of victors.

Beck's eyes are lit up at this news. "Really, mom? I'm going to get a sibling?"

"Yeah."

He smothers me in a giant hug. "I'll help you take care of him. Or her. I promise."

"I know."

"It caught me off-guard," Beetee admits, "but really, this is amazing. Now we have two things to celebrate! By the way, did you find out the gender?"

I can really smile about this. "Girl."

"She'll be just as pretty as you, of course." He pokes my belly. I let out a small giggle. "Why not use Joules in her name somewhere?"

A small tear rolls down my cheek at the thought of my sister. "A wonderful idea. Middle name, probably."

"If that's what you want. Now we just have to figure out her first name."

"What about Beta?" Beck suggests.

I reply, "I'll think about…"

Beetee sighs. "Here it goes." He leads us to the couch, picks up the remote and turns on our television. I can tell he's tensing up. So am I. It's time for the only thing that could hamper our happiness: the Quarter Quell announcement. Beck settles himself down next to me. He's even more nervous, if that were possible. This is the only downside to being a mom: watching your kid go through the reaping process. And the Quarter Quell is "special".

President Snow appears at the podium. I grip Beetee's hand tightly, wondering what kind of torture Snow will put the tributes through. Beck takes my other hand. After reminding us of the past Quarter Quells, we watch as Snow takes out the Third Quarter Quell card. I'm shaking now.

"As a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the Capitol," he says, "the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."

"You've got to be kidding me," Beetee says under his breath. He looks completely stunned. I don't blame him. Nobody in the _country _could've seen this coming.

Beck's eyes widen. "What? What did he just say? T-that… that can't be right…." His face falls.

All I do is stare into space. Then, everything rushes out of me at once. I press my face in Beetee's chest, sobbing. He strokes my hair gently.

"We'll be okay, Wiress."

He knows that's a big fat lie. Nothing's okay. He's just trying to pretend this isn't really happening. In District 3, there are two other female victors besides me, and only one other man besides Beetee. Not very good odds.

Beck is beside himself. "No. They can't put you both back in there. They _can't!_" He runs away to his room, but not before I see his eyes begin to water.

I never thought it would happen, but soon enough, I'm preparing for my second reaping. Standing beside me is Kami, who is in her fifties. The other woman is Mira, who became victor about eight years after I did. The other male victor, Gavin, is elderly and only gets around by a motor chair. I wouldn't be surprised if Beetee volunteers for him.

Ty puts his hand in the reaping bowl and calls my name. I start screaming, running around in circles, wanting this bad dream to go away. But I'm wide awake.

When I finally calm down enough to walk up to the platform, I keep looking back at the other two women. I don't want either of them to volunteer for me, though. They've become my new family since I moved into the Victor's Penthouse.

My breath nearly stops when Ty pulls out the name of the male tribute.

"Beetee Kurtz."

I totally lose it now. I have to leave my son behind, and I must return to the arena with my husband and my unborn child.


	2. Chapter 2

By this point, Beck has moved in with Beetee's mother. We've always sent him to her whenever we go to the Capitol. This arrangement, I realize, is probably going to become permanent now. Jena Kurtz lives in Beetee's old apartment in the Victor's Penthouse. He gave it to her after we got married.

"I love you so much, mom and dad," was all Beck could say without sobbing. Beetee and I embraced him tightly. If we had it our way, we'd never have let go. But our time is running out.

"Thank you for being there for my son," Jena told me.

"No," I corrected her. "Thank you."

Now in the present, Beetee and I are shoved to the Justice Building. We turn around to get one last glimpse of Beck. He waves meekly.

Through the Justice Building, we're thrown onto the train without getting to say goodbyes. I feel lucky that we already said our farewells to Beck. There are others who we'll never see again, though. My parents, for instance. I try not to cry. Even a letter would make me feel better about their years of shunning me. And I didn't exactly attempt to reconcile with them. I wouldn't know where to begin.

Kami follows us, because she will be our new mentor. She insisted on it.

"How are you two holding up?" she asks when we're alone in our compartment.

"How do you _think_ we're holding up?" Beetee snaps at her. "I've just been told that I have to fight for my life a _second _time, with the added bonus that my wife's going in with me!"

Kami glares at him, her hands on her hips. "You think I don't know? I won fifteen years before you did. I had to send _four _of our tributes in there during the Second Quarter Quell. And I mentored _you_, didn't I? So please, calm down a little. Now, let's find out who you're up against."

We watch as the reapings are replayed on the television. I know most of these people, and I saw the majority of their games. Well, I didn't see Mags win, an elderly victor who volunteers from District 4. But she's always been kind to me as a fellow mentor.

In District 12, only three victors remain. Seventeen-year old Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, who _both _won the Games just last year, are chosen. Actually, Peeta volunteers for Haymitch Abernathy, the last Quarter Quell victor. Peeta reminds me of someone. I just can't put my finger on it… but then, I remember: he must be related to Quinn Mellark, the girl I allied with twenty years ago. As for Katniss, I know exactly who she is. She triggered the underground bombs at the Cornucopia. The bombs that our boy tribute, Ian Nelson, had made. Just his luck that he allied with one of the nastiest tributes I've ever seen: Cato, the boy from District 2. One neck snap, and it was all over.

Five hours into the ride, Beetee and I are relaxing on a couch, my head in his lap.

"Have I ever told you how adorable I think your voice is?" he asks.

"No," I tease. "You'll have to…"

"Tell you again?"

"Yup."

"Your voice is the most adorable sound I've ever heard."

I pull him towards me and kiss him playfully.

"Heeello."

"You two seriously need a room," a female voice jokes.

I scramble to sit up at once. Ty and Kami stand in the doorway. Ty is staring at us in shock, because he didn't know about us. We're probably the weirdest couple he's ever seen. Which is probably true, when you compare his brown skin to my pale skin, and the fact that I can't speak normally anymore.

Beetee clears his throat, blushing a deep red. He's never blushed in front of me before. It's kind of cute.

Once we've arrived at the Capitol, Beetee and I are separated to get ready for the parade. I sit nervously, hoping the costume will be an improvement from last time. Sounds selfish, but it's one of the few things that could make me smile right now.

"Here you are," Dev says when he enters the room. "Can I just say, you still look so good after twenty years!"

"Thanks," I mumble. _How many procedures have you gone through since I last saw you?_ I want to ask. He looks exactly the same.

Dev opens up the bag with my costume in it. This one is a completely black jumpsuit, but I can feel small bumps decorated onto it.

"Rhinestones?" I ask him.

"Lights," he replies, smiling. "I mean, you guys are from the electronic district, so why not? Check your sleeve for a button. That'll turn it on."

Surely enough, my body seems to spring to life when I press the button. I look down to see three yellow lightning bolts. So, I'm a charge of electricity. Much cooler than a plain battery. To be honest, I've never felt so powerful.

All of the former victors are so talkative when we line up for the parade. Not me, though.

Beetee links his arm through mine. "Shall we?"

My geeky grin makes a comeback as I reply, "We shall."

We step up onto the carriage, ready to take on the same audience that cheered us on twenty years ago.


	3. Chapter 3

My focus is sharp at training the next morning. Beetee and I need to keep a close watch on the other victors, just to see how their skills have changed since they've won. It's a struggle for the older people, especially Mags. But she takes advantage of her District 4 upbringing and spends most of her time at the knot-tying station. She helps us out, talking as best as she can through her dentures.

"Mood 'ob," she tells me after I finish a knot. That must mean, "Good job". I beam at her. We're two of a kind, me and Mags; both women who can't communicate well through words. We're the only ones in this room with that problem, as a matter of fact. She reminds me that I'm not alone.

A few days into training, and we start spending time with the District 12 victors. Peeta shows us a few camouflage tricks.

Somewhere along the line, my curiosity grows. I nudge Beetee with my elbow to get his attention. "Quinn… Ask about Quinn."

"Of course, dear." Beetee looks up from the fire he's making. "Peeta? Wiress was wondering, aren't you related to Quinn Mellark? They were allies."

Peeta nods. "Yeah. She was my aunt. Or, she _would've_ been. Dad told me her cake was always better than his." He pauses, chuckling. "He also wanted me to thank you, for making her last days bearable. And he understands why you had to kill her."

I simply smile at him in thanks. These words mean more to me than he will ever know. All Quinn had wanted was to save herself from a slow death, but I saw it as me becoming a cold-blooded murderer. I've been beating myself up about it for too long. But if Quinn's own brother respected her choices, then I guess it's time to let go of that guilt. After all, worse things have happened in the Hunger Games.

A few days later, somebody knocks on my suite door. It's an Avox with a letter for me. The return address is from District 3. It can only be from one person. I practically rip it apart. I have to read this _now_.

_Wiress,_

_This is your mother. I don't expect you to write me back. I'm just writing to apologize. I know I can't even begin to make up for the loss of our relationship. But I need you to know that I've thought about you every day. What was it like to be in that arena? I can only guess. I was so angry that you'd end a life without so much as blinking. However, something happened to me when I watched a re-run of your Games the other day. You really __didn't__ want to murder anyone, did you? No. The girl I raised would never enjoy it. Not once did you smile when a cannon went off, unlike some of the others. And it hurt so much to see you cry. The more I thought about it, the more I realized how much you were willing to do, for the sake of coming home to us. Somehow I think if you had no family, you'd likely sacrifice yourself rather than kill. And now you're being forced to go back in. Just know that I love you dearly, Wires. Keep Beetee safe for as long as you can. He's the perfect fit for you. May the odds be ever in your favor! _

_Love,_

_Your mother_

I almost can't see through my tears. If I don't respond now, I'll regret it forever. I have to put the past behind me and make amends. I settle down at the table with a pen and pad; then I begin my letter:

_Mom,_

_Thank you so much. I don't blame you at all. I guess I should tell you… I'm pregnant. Don't cry. I know you're crying right as you read this. I'm as devastated as you are. I'm sacrificing more than I ever wanted to. But maybe something good will come out of this. We've got Katniss Everdeen. I'm going to help her as best as I can. She may actually have the power to make the Capitol listen. Remember how gutsy she was last year? The other victors and I will come together to keep her alive. Right now I'm about to go show the judges my skills. Please stay strong for me and Joules, okay? I love you. I always have, even though we fell apart. Tell Dad I love him, too._

_Love,_

_Your daughter _

By the time I'm done writing, my paper is smeared with tears. But Mom won't care. What matters is that she gets the letter. Now that we've made peace, everything seems easier. I can walk in to my exhibition with confidence. I'm prepared to show the Gamemakers a different side of me; not the tech-savvy Wiress that everyone knows, but the Wiress who will put up a good fight if attacked.

"Wiress Kurtz, District 3," I announce to the Gamemakers.

Head Gamemaker Plutarch Heavensbee smiles and gives me thumbs -up. "Go on ahead." Something about him seems different from the Gamemakers I faced before. He's actually on my side, instead of glaring at me like a race horse he's going to bet on.

I choose to do hand-to-hand combat with a robot dummy. It's become my biggest strength, second only to my technical genius.

For two minutes, I throw punches, kicks, and knock the dummy on the floor. I can hope for a good score. But what does it matter now? The sponsors are going to go for the younger, more popular victors, like Cashmere, from District 1. They won't root for the crazy middle-aged lady. I'll have to depend on myself in the arena.

That's why I'm so surprised when they give me a 9. Beetee earns a 10 for disguising himself as grass.

"I bet you were fierce," he tells me as we sit in my room, his arm around my shoulder. "I wouldn't wanna mess with a knockout warrior like you."

I punch him lightly. "Joker."

"Why would I joke when there's so much to love about you?"

"Aw, shucks," I say in a goofy voice. We lean in to kiss.

It's official: As long as I have him, I can handle anything the Games throw at me.


	4. Chapter 4

The final day before the Quarter Quell arrives like an earthquake. I can't allow myself to be happy now, and my pregnancy leaves me running to the bathroom all morning, puking. Things couldn't be worse. Luckily, I don't have to be anywhere until the afternoon.

Beetee's been visiting me every night so we can still sleep together. I wouldn't be able to sleep without him. Today, he waits for me outside the bathroom when I'm done being sick.

"Hey, Wires. You okay?"

I glare at him. These mood swings are horrible to me.

"No. Of course you're not," he says, scratching his head with a guilty expression.

We walk back out to a couch in my room, trying to get at least one more moment of peace. But there's something I need to say that he might not want to hear.

I clear my throat. "I think you should…"

"Tell Caesar about the baby?" He doesn't sound too happy. "No."

"Why not?"

"Wiress. The Games have already taken away our future. Sure, we'll get sympathy because of our relationship. But no amount of sponsors could change that, and you know it. If one of us wins, we both lose."

I couldn't have said it any better myself. It's absolutely true.

"'kay," I agree grudgingly.

"Glad you understand. If we lived in any other scenario, I'd be shouting it to the world. I guess the world's never really been on our side."

Time, in all its cruelty, never slows down, and I'm soon getting ready for interviews. My dress is a bright shade of turquoise, with a strap that goes around my neck. It leaves my shoulders and back completely bare. I'm not sure how I feel about so much exposure. That is, until Beetee sees me. When nobody's looking, he slides his hand all the way down my back.

"Absolutely gorgeous," he whispers.

"You too." I wink at him. His blazer is turquoise to match my dress.

As the interviews begin, I can sense the arena is near, closer than ever. Every victor seems to feel the same way. They give subtle hints about how much the Capitol has taken from them. Despite our differences, we really have a common goal.

Once Brutus Gunner leaves the stage, Caesar announces, "Please welcome back, from District 3, Wiress Plummer Kurtz!"

I walk out with the best smile I can muster. They're cheering me on, for what? For being a serial killer? I say something along those lines as he talks to me, but he just smiles back like I've praised my prep team.

"What can we expect from you this time around," he asks, "now that you will have your husband by your side?"

I make direct contact with the camera. "A serious fight."

"You would do anything, then?"

"Anything," I echo.

Sometime later, Peeta finishes talking to Caesar. Apparently, I'm not the only pregnant tribute. Now is our cue. I look down to Gloss and Cashmere. She squeezes his hand, and I remember: they're brother and sister. Gloss takes the hand of Enobaria, who grins with her golden teeth. Our plan's working. We're creating a human chain. Twenty- four of us against the Capitol. Brutus nods to me and grabs my hand, continuing the chain. Beetee keeps it going after, and so on. It's rather sad how nice Brutus seems right now. We're all united in our hate for the Capitol. But it won't matter when the Games begin tomorrow. He could be the one that kills me, for all I know. I shift my gaze to the other side, where I get a good look at every other former victor. Every pair of eyes tells a story of courage and true sacrifice in the face of a cruel world. I hope that's what they see when they look at me. Not some loony woman who lost her mind.

There's Finnick Odair, who became one of the youngest victors in history when he was fourteen. There's the District 6 couple, who completely depend on morphine to erase their painful arena memories. There's Cecilia, who has three children that will never see her again. There's Chaff, who lost his hand in the Games. There's Peeta, who lost his leg. And Katniss. Our human mockingjay. The girl we need to save.

Beetee and I keep each other close all night. Even though we don't speak, we still communicate everything. I never want to fall asleep or else risk losing another moment with him.

"You're strong, Wires," he says in the morning.

"So are you."

"But I haven't been through as much as you have. Think about your brain injury, and what you're being forced to do with our child." He presses his lips on my cheek. "Keep Beta safe for as long as you can."

I fight back the sobs that threaten to come out of me. He hasn't called our baby by her name since the Quarter Quell announcement. Our baby, who won't ever get a chance at life.

Beetee takes me in his arms. "Hey, darling. I know. Don't be afraid to cry. I'm scared to death, too."

We don't say the fatal word: Goodbye. This is _not_ goodbye. We'll meet each other in the arena, somehow. But I have to leave. My prep team will be expecting me to be in my room.

I can't take my eyes off of Beetee as I step away from him. This is way too hard.

"It has been such a pleasure to dress you," Dev says when he arrives with my arena uniform.

It turns out to be a black and white wetsuit. Oh dear. This arena's going to have loads of water. And I'm not too great at swimming.

"If you don't mind me saying," he adds, "may the odds be ever in your favor!"

He can say that as much as he wants, but it doesn't mean anything now. I thought I was out of danger when I became victor. Even that turned out to be a fluke. Once should've been more than enough.

The launch pad is stifling, so much more than it was last time. Sweat trickles down my face. I can barely breathe. Finally, I smell the fresh air of our arena. Then the countdown begins…

My platform is surrounded by salt water. The waves are pounding against me, and my nerves reach their climax. How am I going to get out of this? Then I see the beach. It's arranged in a circle. I can't help but think there's something unique about it. I mean, this is a Quarter Quell arena. My mission should be to decipher it.

With the sound of the gong, my life is no longer mine to control. I'm at the mercy of the arena.


	5. Chapter 5

Into the water I go. Pushing hard through the waves to swim doesn't count for much. This is torture. It feels like I swim forever before I finally fall onto the beach. I spring up immediately and run inside the Cornucopia. The only weapons I choose are a knife and rope, similar to last time. I'm depending on them to help me as much as they did twenty years ago.

Then, I hear a man scream next to me.

I turn towards the cry that I know so well. The man from District 9 has stabbed Beetee in the back.

"Beetee!" I'm not the best fighter, but I'll do anything to save him. Before the man can stab Beetee again, I ram my body into his, pull out my knife and strike it across his stomach. His knife falls on the ground with him. I go to pick it up.

Now, I've got to get Beetee out of danger. Using all my strength, I lift him onto my back.

As I run away, I hear the nauseating sound of a blade cutting through neck. It must be Johanna Mason, of District 7. She's the only victor I know who liked to decapitate her victims.

We're almost out of view. But not before a sharp pain cuts my ankle. Somebody's thrown a blade at me. It doesn't stick, but a graze hurts just as badly. All I can think about is getting to a safe zone. I end up dragging Beetee when I can't carry him anymore. We're deep in the heart of a mysterious jungle. Who knows what could happen. The Gamemakers are crafty people.

I turn my head in every direction and decide it's probably okay to rest.

Then I hear the rush of water coming towards us.

Drowning is one of my worst nightmares, ever since I was little, learning to swim in the deep end of a pool. I've been a great runner all my life, but I've never ran this fast. Especially not while I'm helping somebody else. Beetee's unconscious body plops alongside me. _Stay with me, honey, _I want to say.

At some point, the wave dies down. It reaches my legs to push them out from under me, bringing me crashing to the ground. I regain my grip on Beetee and we crawl (or, _I_ crawl) to safety. I find two giant trees to hide between. Somewhere along the way, eight cannons go off.

Now for the big question: _Is Beetee still alive?_ My eyes start to water with the thought. I move my ear to his chest, listening for a heartbeat. It's so faint I can barely hear it. In this condition, he might not last long. I'm no nurse, either. Now I wish I'd learned any bit of first aid that could help him. I look for giant tree leaves. They might have some healing medicine inside them. They're my best bet. After cutting it to test for poison, I throw one onto Beetee's back and press on his wound.

"Aahh," he grunts.

"Sorry!" Every ten minutes, I check on his wound. It's not closing up, but the swelling has gone down, and it's not as raw as it used to be. The leaves must be a disinfectant. His heart's picking up speed again. Thank goodness.

Then, after about an hour, a sound reaches my ears… _Click. Click. Click. _

It's coming from the tops of the trees. I look up to see hordes of beetles, pouring down the tree towards us. The beetles are an ugly green, massive; and they're guaranteed to be poisonous.

"Beetee," I say, pushing him to wake up. I prop him against me as we head in a new direction. The mutt beetles keep following us, like an army of death. One bite could probably kill me. It's too dangerous to look back or stop. One of the beetles begins walking up my leg, and I shake it off frantically. I have to hope it'll end sometime. And it does, rather abruptly. The beetles halt when we reach a certain point. There must be some kind of forcefield holding them back. I collapse with Beetee onto the ground, relieved.

Beetee falls back asleep. Good. He needs it to help his body heal. I can watch for intruders on my own. A few animals cross our path, but they're completely harmless. It reminds me that eventually I have to hunt for food. The Capitol didn't provide us with bags, so this will probably be a very short edition of the Games.

An hour passes.

Then the lightning strikes. I know how well the trees carry an electric charge when they're struck. We need to go to the beach, where it won't hit.

Beetee and I trudge to a stretch of sand about twenty yards from the nearest tree. This is where we'll stay for now. If there's anything I learned in my first Games, it was to never stay in one place for too long. That tactic probably saved my life more than a couple times.

The lightning goes on until it suddenly comes to a halt. I think the Gamemakers have some kind of pattern going. If only I could figure it out…

Even though I want to move, my ankle injury's had about enough. And forget about Beetee walking. I lead him to a nearby tree on the edge of the beach. It can work as a shield, because victors who pass by will only see one side of it, so long as we stay silent. I kneel down next to him. The hours seem to float past, without any danger. I manage to catch some fish from the water. I have to shove it into Beetee's mouth while he sleeps. Over a little fire, they don't taste too bad.

There's been at least one death since the bloodbath. As it gets dark, I nestle against Beetee.

"Wires."

He wraps one arm around my waist. Finally, he's responding again. I tilt my head toward his, and our lips find one another's easily. They fit together like pieces of a puzzle. One is not complete without the other.

I'm nearly asleep when ten bells ring. Not cannons. Bells. I don't know what they're supposed to be for. To my left, I hear… another set of tidal waves. We're not out of the clear. The obstacles are repeating themselves, like… like…

I stare down at the watch on Beetee's wrist, his district token.

_Like the hands on a clock!_

"Tick tock," I whisper.


	6. Chapter 6

Beetee doesn't understand what I mean. Usually he would, but he's not himself. I can't bear to see him in this pain. So I simply sit. And sit. And hope the new information can spare us from the arena. That doesn't mean we're safe from the other victors, of course. I've got my knife out, ready to fight the second somebody comes into our territory.

We eat some breakfast while everything's calm. I know we should leave. I just can't bear to force Beetee into doing anything. His pain's too great. Any strain might cause him to die. Besides, I reason, our hideout hasn't been discovered, so we're fine at the moment. We don't _have_ to move.

True to clockwork form, the lightning returns, then dies down again. I'm much more relaxed now that we're in a safe zone once more. Safe from the arena, anyway. Victors could be creeping up on us as I sit.

"All right?" I ask Beetee.

"Okay," he says faintly. "You've been amazing. Thanks for the help." Each sentence takes effort, almost like it does for me. He sinks down onto the sand.

I'm ready to join him when a young woman's voice calls, "Hey, Nuts! Volts! Get your butts over here."

My heart's pounding. Who could it be? I turn to find out.

Standing in the distance is Johanna Mason. She looks thrilled to see us. And by that, I mean she looks ready to kill. Somebody's not happy. I half expect her to raise her axe at us. But she doesn't.

I point to Beetee's back. "But he…"

"Oh, he's hurt?" Johanna sighs grudgingly. "Okay, I'm coming." She makes her way over, her face coming into view.

"What's this all about?" Beetee asks weakly. He still doesn't look like he's completely aware of everything.

"I'm taking you to Katniss Everdeen, because I heard she wanted to ally with you. I don't know why she bothers. Nonetheless, I'll respect her wishes." Obviously, Johanna's upset that she can't chop us into pieces. Nuts and Volts? What lovely nicknames she has for us. Three guesses as to which one I am… I'm _so_ sick of people thinking I'm crazy. After twenty years like this, though, it's easy to believe them.

Johanna lifts Beetee up with one arm, and I take the other. He's limp to the point where he starts falling every few seconds. I try to soothe him, but Johanna just yanks him back on his feet. The jungle awaits, hiding countless dangers. But if this is how we get to Katniss, then I can't be afraid. She needs all the people she can have behind her. Who would've thought a teenage girl would make such an impact on our country? She caused twice the commotion of a normal victor, and for that, we owe her.

We step into a dense rain. At least, that's what I think it is, until I see dots of red on my sleeves. Blood. I know I didn't just get cut, so there's only one possible answer: The arena is _raining blood. _

"Let's get moving," Johanna demands. She doesn't even need to say it. With Beetee in tow, we trek through the chaos. It fills my suit, my ears, and eventually, my mouth. _Ew. _

All of a sudden, the blood rain stops. How odd. We're on another stretch of sandy beach. Immediately, I spit out the blood and shake it from my ears. But there's nothing I can do about my suit. It's been dyed a deep red. How symbolic of the Games. Now that I feel somewhat better, I can see Katniss, Peeta, and Finnick Odair, the District 4 boy, sitting by the shore. They're not drenched in blood, strangely. But they do have nasty scabs all over their skin. Where did those come from? They must have encountered another part of the arena, one that I haven't been to.

_Another part of the arena. _When everything's shaped in a circle, it must be a very specific part of the arena. Then I remember the bell tones, the way the Cornucopia is positioned in the center, and the fact that each obstacle we've been through didn't last for more than an hour. This just confirms my suspicions even more. We're standing in the middle of a life-sized clock!


	7. Chapter 7

"Tick tock," I say again.

"Huh?" Beetee grunts.

Johanna shrugs. "Oh, nothing. Your wife is only being her usual Nutty self."

I want to kill her where she stands, quite honestly. Beetee would actually comprehend my words and _do_ something about my discovery. If he were strong enough.

Katniss, however, looks like she's considering my words. She doesn't get what I'm saying, but just the fact that she wants to understand me is comforting. She's even nice enough to clean the blood off of me and wrap up Beetee's stab wound. Now it can really heal. When the job's done, she sits in Peeta's lap for a while, resting on him. The "star-crossed lovers of District 12", as the Capitol calls them. Beetee kept telling me last year that they might be just an act. But I see the way she looks at him, and it's easy to tell she loves him just as much as he loves her. When they became the final two tributes, neither one of them could bear to kill the other. So they prepared for a double suicide. _That's_ why we have to save them. Nobody else had the guts to be so defiant.

Beetee and I watch them, and my mind fills with our own memories. Like when I kissed him for the first time. When he proposed on top of the tallest building in District 3. When we got married on a snowy day. After the ceremony was done, I pushed him into the snow. We made snow angels and threw snowballs at each other. Beetee kissed me as snowflakes fell; then we warmed up inside the penthouse.

Here, on this twisted island "paradise", Beetee seems to be thinking back, too. He entwines his fingers with mine and asks, "Was it worth it? The last twenty years?" His brown eyes leave me in a trance, just like the first time I gazed into them.

"Yes," I say immediately. The years since my death-that-never-was have been a gift that I've always treasured. I'd thought I was a goner even before our first kiss, but something kept me alive in the arena. There was a reason he didn't die in his Games, either. We both know what could happen at any second, and that, if we became the last two tributes, he'd kill himself to let me win. To give Beta a chance at life. I'd never allow it. Either (by some miracle) we both escape, or we both die here.

Three words flow out of me easily: "I… love… you." It's the only full sentence I've been able to use in a long time.

Beetee strokes my cheek with his thumb and takes my face in his hands. "I love you, too."

There's something so final about the way he kisses me. I want to make it last. My arms encircle his shoulders as I press my lips back on his. It ends before I'm ready to let go. How do I know this isn't his last night? Or _mine_? Nothing is certain anymore. Not in the Hunger Games.

He pulls me to him, and my exhaustion gives way to sleep. I never sleep as soundly as I do when I'm with Beetee. He's the safest place in the world for me.

It seems like no time has passed when I wake up. Somebody's gently touching my hair.

"Darling. The others want to move." I open my eyes, and Beetee comes into view. Of course. He always knows the best way to wake me up. "We're going to the Cornucopia."

I'm so comfortable in his embrace. Do I really have to get up? Slowly but surely, my aching legs force me upwards. I try to lift Beetee, but Finnick comes to the rescue.

"I'll take him," he says. What a nice boy he is, really. It's a shame he was reduced to becoming a killer. Then again, all of us were.

Katniss approaches me.

"Tick tock" is the first thing that pops out of my mouth.

"Yes," she says. "Tick tock, the arena's a clock. It's a clock, Wiress, you were right." *

Relief washes over my face. Katniss figured out what I was trying to say! I knew she was smart. Now everybody will understand, and we'll have a big advantage over the others.

"Midnight," I tell her.

She replies with, "It starts at midnight."*

At the Cornucopia, she explains the arena to our allies.

"I'm sorry I haven't been more helpful," Beetee says, shooting me a guilty stare.

"It doesn't matter now," Peeta replies. "Your wound is so horrible, it's a wonder you can function at all. But we're glad to have you back. You're able to help, and that's what matters. We need your intelligence."

"Then let's get to work." That's the Beetee I know and love. I blow him a kiss, like I always did when he'd leave in the morning for his job.

Peeta hands me Beetee's coil of wire, asking me to wash it. I sit down on the edge of the water and get to work. A nursery rhyme comes into my mind as I clean the wire, and I begin singing. Just for the fun of it.

"Hickory dickory… dock; The mouse ran up the… clock; The clock… struck one, the mouse ran… down,  
Hickory… Dickory dock. Hick-"

As a muscular hand covers my mouth, a nauseating shock runs through my body. Then I see the glint of a knife, coming towards my throat. But I can't scream for help. The knife is so painful I have to close my eyes. In a second, I'm fighting for air. It doesn't take long before my heart gives out.

Tick tock. My time is up.

*quotes from pg. 327 of Catching Fire

**Thank you so much for standing with Wiress to the end :') She may pop up again in a new fanfiction I'm thinking of doing... *hinthint* Keep checking my page to see when it appears... LONG LIVE WIRESS!**


	8. Surprise!

Hey! Just wanted to send you the link to my newest story, which involves Wiress :) s/8953083/1/After-The-Storm


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